


Fluttering

by merthurkdramas_101



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Setting, Jealous Arthur, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Arthur, Oblivious Merlin, Possessive Arthur, Requited Unrequited Love, canon AU, if you couldn't tell, it's my first time, there is lots of fluttering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9339914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merthurkdramas_101/pseuds/merthurkdramas_101
Summary: Original Prompt:Five times Arthur finds himself inexplicably jealous and the one time he doesn't have to be.Or the one where Arthur doesn't realize his feelings for Merlin until he sees a visiting noble flirting and treating Merlin right and Merlin getting flustered over it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeioRossi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeioRossi/gifts).



> HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! I hope this year will be good for everyone :3
> 
> Leio_Rossi, this is for you!! I hope you enjoy this story and I hope I did this lovely prompt justice! This is my first ever gift exchange or Merthur participation thing, first canon AU, first time writing for a prompt AND first five + one story—and I gotta say I LOVE IT SO MUCH!! Lolol I guess this new year is all about firsts for me! :D 
> 
> All I have left to say is thank you Sebastian_Michael (sebastian2017) and AO3_support for all your hard-work in organizing this! I’ve enjoyed writing this piece and sharing my ideas for Merthur :3 and without further ado, here’s the story!! As always, kudos, comments and criticisms are much appreciated if you’re in the mood to share them! I hope you enjoy! <3333
> 
> DISCLAIMERS: Merlin and all of its characters do not belong to me, sadly. I also am NOT writing this for profit—just for the attempt of trying to fill the whole this show left in my soul <333 hopefully it helps others as well!

It started with his laugh.

There was always something about him, even from the beginning. Merlin had always been plain looking—pale white skin that barely covers the skeleton in him, with blue eyes and black hair that never seemed to frame his face well enough.

But the first time Arthur’s want of knowing what it was about Merlin that made him so special intensified, was the first time Arthur heard Merlin laugh. Not one of his pathetic snort-laughs or giggles (really, what kind of man giggles*?), but a full-blown laugh. His full, pink mouth was open, his veiny neck thrown back and his whole body was shaking with the force of his laugh. There was barely any sound coming out of him—a kind of wheezing—but he seemed…different. Awake; more real. Like he was just a man like Arthur, not just a terrible servant to the King of Camelot. And since then, there’d been something stirring in Arthur. From the bottom of his heart—like a small gust of wind in the summer. It’s barely there, but it’s enough to take off the sting of the heat.

And so, it was with this unusual stirring that Arthur considered his behavior with Merlin. Some days, it would come on full force, the fluttering. When Merlin would smile at him, when he would say something remotely wise, when he would make a terrible joke, when he would be walking with Gwen, or when he would take extra care while dressing Arthur for battle. Other days, it would be still in his heart but flare in his face because really, Merlin was a complete idiot when it came to speaking to people of rank. Even still, watching Merlin defy, especially him, made that fluttering travel downwards to a place that really wouldn’t be appropriate to mention since Arthur is a king, of course.

Magic, though, Arthur realized, was not what was special about Merlin. It was just another stupid, idiotic task that Merlin performed when he was being particularly self-sacrificing for Arthur’s sake. The fluttering turned to chaos when Merlin got hit by the Dorocha; his heart could barely stand still; and when Merlin returned with Lancelot, it felt like a forest of the biggest flowers you can imagine blooming in his stomach. But when he saw the look on Merlin’s face, Arthur realized that Merlin wasn’t supposed to be here—there was something off.

“I have magic, Arthur. I’m a sorcerer.”

Arthur, because he somehow knew it was true, laughed in his face. He sobered though when he saw Merlin’s face contorted into one of hurt and worry—fear, Arthur realized. Something he had not seen once in the face of the man who provided four years of (yes, rather appalling but still a ridiculously loyal sense of) service.

“N—No. You—you can’t be a sorcerer, Merlin. I would _know_. We’re—we”; but they weren’t, were they? No, Arthur was too stubborn to admit that this man in front of him—who was stupidly loyal, charming and his _best friend_ —meant more to him than the magic he possessed.

The knights were asleep and all was quiet, save for the fire crackling and the sound of Gwaine asking for apples in any form he could get them.

“Arthur, look. Please,” Merlin said.

Arthur watched him stretch his arm towards the fire, but he focused on the face of his friend instead of the orange figure flying around his peripherals. Merlin’s face was calm as he let the figure fly from the flames and he saw a small smile form—he was relaxed; despite the fact he was baring his secret to the one man who had a say about his head staying in place or not. And as Arthur saw the fire fade to its normal form, he saw the lines on Merlin’s face grow deeper. When his blue eyes met Arthur’s, there wasn’t anything but hope and fear.

Arthur wondered how it was possible Merlin could still _hope_ after everything he bared to him, and exactly how much Merlin trusted Arthur.

“I’ve used my magic only for you, Arthur. There’s no one I’d rather use it for.”

Arthur took a deep breath and asked Merlin to explain to him every major detail that had led up to this moment—most importantly, how in the hell Merlin survived the attack. And he did.

“When we get back,” Merlin said. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know. But now, you must rest. We still have to defeat the Dorocha.”

And as Arthur watched Merlin call upon the powers of Life and Death and watched the veil close, he suddenly questioned if Merlin was a terrible servant on purpose.

And the fluttering started up again.

**~~ONE**

It’s been three years since Arthur found out about Merlin’s magic. And even though Arthur has allowed Merlin to use magic in his presence, Merlin’s performance is the same as ever. Arthur ~~smiles to himself~~ scowls as he walks into his room and finds pieces of his armor and clothes scattered across his floor, but finds a mop and bucket moving across the floor, sans Merlin.

“Merlin?”

There was no answer.

He walks into the ante-chamber, but there’s no sign of Merlin there either, so he makes his way to Gaius’ chambers. He’d been more nervous than Merlin was when he found out Arthur knew about Merlin’s magic. He’d just now become more open with Arthur about it since it was clear that the three of them needed to be as careful as possible. His father might’ve died, but Arthur still had a lot of his father’s members in court, and Arthur couldn’t risk anything without proper research and proof. He didn’t doubt that the council would put Merlin’s head on the chopping block, no matter how progressive they’ve become.

And what do you know, the unpleasant whirlwind takes control of his stomach. He leans his arm on a door to brace himself but doesn’t realize it’s cracked open. So he falls through and lands on his face.

He looks up when his stomach starts to flutter again, the pleasant one—not the terrible one he’d just faced—, and sees Merlin laughing and Gaius with his back turned but shoulders slightly shaking.

He stands up and rights himself and narrows his eyes at Merlin, who goes on reporting to him about what he learned from following Morgana’s messenger with a small little grin, eyes almost fond while staring at Arthur. All Arthur could stare at, though, was his cheek. And this time, for once, he wasn’t staring at the long line that sculpts his cheekbones. This time, there was a line of blood smeared perpendicular to ~~the one of many beautiful~~ line on his face.

“Arthur, are you even listening to me?” Merlin says.

“Of course I am. What happened to your face?”

Merlin snorts and Gaius turns around with a jar of salve in his left hand and some goo on his right fingers, smirk and eyebrow raised to a tee as he smears the salve on Merlin’s cheek.

“If you’d been listening to me, you’d know.”

“Well, your prattle has been repetitious lately, so I thought it best to mind my thoughts elsewhere.”

Merlin snorts again, but Gaius interrupts Arthur before he could make another quip about Merlin not treating him with the respect he deserves as he is the bloody _King of Camelot_.

“Sire, Merlin followed Morgana’s messenger to her hiding place. Neither of them saw him, but now he knows where she is hiding. For now, they are not planning anything, but Merlin has assured me that he will leave every new moon to check her.”

“And I’m still not to know who, exactly, this messenger is?” Arthur asks.

The mood changes, suddenly. It’s sullen and gray and Merlin’s smile was coming to form a thin line.

“You’ll know when the time is right, Sire. For now, though, Lord Kay is on his way for his visit, correct? I suggest you both get prepared for tonight. The castle is bustling with arrangements for his arrival,” Gaius says.

“Right. Your floors should be done by now, so I just need to pick up your laundry before I can come and help you change,” Merlin says with his back facing Arthur.

“Merlin—” Arthur starts, but he doesn’t know what to say. He feels like he should be sorry, but that’s ridiculous. He doesn’t know anything.

He feels a different kind of fluttering—a forewarning of sorts—as Merlin turns around and offers him a small smile when he says, “You’ll know when the time is right. It’s not affecting you now. I’ll look out for you, you know that.”

Arthur swallows and nods his head. He smiles slightly at Gaius before he turns around and says, “I’ll expect you in my chambers in an hour, Merlin. You’d better have my favorite shirt repaired from the last hunting trip.”

And he tries to smother a laugh as he hears Merlin go off to Gaius about how much of a prat Arthur is. Gaius sighs, and Arthur runs around the corner before he runs into a wall to laugh in his elbow.

***

Kay is Arthur’s oldest friend. They grew up together into their late teens, but when Kay’s mother died, Kay and his father left Camelot in search of land to rule on their own to get a fresh start. The last time they saw each other, Arthur was seventeen and stupid, chasing after anyone who gave him a curious look and got in trouble more times than he cares to remember. But as he watches Kay and his company ride up to the castle, the memories come flooding back to him and a grin spreads across his face as he sees Kay’s smile widen as well.

“It’s been too long, old friend,” Kay says as he wraps two tree trunks around Arthur.

“You’ve gotten fatter,” Arthur jests with a pat to Kay’s back. Kay pulls back after and laughs as he rubs his knuckles hard against Arthur’s skull.

“It’s all muscle, Wart. Still weak and scrawny, then?”

“We’ll see about that later on. But first, let’s feast in your honor. It really has been too long since we’ve seen each other.”

“Lead the way, your highness,” Kay says with a smirk, and Arthur can’t help but think of Merlin and his cheekiness and how it would probably be very good if Kay and Merlin did not meet.

At all.

***

Well, of course they had to meet. Merlin is Arthur’s servant and is serving at the feast. It would’ve been fine, Arthur thinks, if Merlin arrived at the same time as everyone else so he wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. But of course, Merlin got wind of some news of Morgana and had to run some “errands” before the feast.

It’s halfway through their second course that Merlin stumbles in with random leaves in his hair but hands, face and clothes clean as a whistle, ready to serve. No one turns towards the door because they’re all used to Merlin’s tardiness, but Kay, Arthur realizes, doesn’t take his eyes off of Merlin as he makes his way over to them.

“Merlin, this is Lord Kay. He’ll be staying with us for about a week.”

“Lord Kay, it’s a pleasure,” Merlin says with a slight bow.

“Believe me, Merlin. The pleasure is all mine,” Kay says. Then. _Then_ , he takes Merlin’s right hand and kisses it. Like Merlin’s a maiden.

Arthur’s eyes go wide and turns his head to Merlin, who’s _blushing_ and who’s mouth is opening and closing. He finally pulls his hand back and starts, “My Lord…”

But Arthur cuts in before Merlin goes into ramblings he’s seen happen far too often.

“Kay, Merlin is my servant. I’ve told him to see to anything you might need.”

Kay faces Arthur, eyes widened an inch before he looks Merlin up and down.

“You look too pretty to be a servant, Merlin,” Kay says.

Merlin’s face only goes redder at the remark and he walks around to Arthur’s side, presumably to fill up his wine glass, before he, predictably, trips and knocks over Kay’s glass of wine.

“My Lord, I apologize, I wasn’t—”

“You’re hurt,” Kay says, surprisingly.

Merlin’s eyes widen; in panic, Arthur observes; before he fumbles with an excuse Arthur knows all too well.

“I was garnering herbs for Gaius, the court physician, and I tripped over a root. Twisted my ankle.”

Arthur’s heart slams so hard against his chest in that moment, he drops his fork from his hand and chokes on his mouthful.

Four years. It’d been _four years_ before Merlin told Arthur about his magic, and Arthur realizes how stupid he’d been. How could he have possibly just excepted Merlin’s flimsy excuses? Merlin is clumsy, yes, but he knows the woods, even in Ealdor. It shouldn’t have been easy for Arthur to believe Merlin’s excuses. He should’ve seen it—the pain he was in; the struggles he went through—all for Arthur. It was all for him.

_I’ve used my magic only for you, Arthur. There’s no one I’d rather use it for._

“Arthur?” Merlin asks. Arthur looks up at his blue eyes filled with concern.

“I apologize. I was merely thinking of some state matters. Are you well, Merlin?”

“Y-yes,” Merlin says. His eyes are narrowed and brows drawn together in a confused look. ~~He looks adorable.~~

“I was just saying how you work Merlin too hard, Arthur,” Kay says. His left eyebrow is raised in a challenge while his smirk is borderline dangerous—a look Arthur knows and loathes. It was these looks that got them (him) into trouble. “Do you even give him time off?”

Arthur splutters. “Of course I do! I’m not completely heartless, you know.”

Kay shrugs. “It’s been many years since we’ve seen each other. You’ve changed a lot. For better or worse, I do not know, but I do know an overworked person when I see one. You should be more gracious in the care of your servants.”

Arthur flushes with anger.

“Hold yourself, Kay. You may be an old friend, but I am still King. You cannot speak to me that way. I treat my servants with the respect and care they deserve.”

Kay doesn’t flinch. He smirks.

“Very well. I deeply apologize, my Lord.”

Arthur nods and reaches for his fork again, when he hears a whisper that makes him stab his chicken dinner with far more force than necessary.

“I apologize if I’ve offended you in any way, Merlin. I was only asking after your well-being.”

The whole night, Kay was making advances towards Merlin, and Merlin just…took them. He seemed to actually like it, the attention he was being given. Arthur huffs when he sees Merlin lean in to Kay while filling his wine glass while Kay whispers something in his ear. And when Merlin throws his head back and laughs, the should-be-pleasant fluttering turns into something Arthur doesn’t know what to name. it’s not a good feeling—he wants to say…it’s not jealousy. God no. He’s not _jealous_ that Kay is making Merlin laugh like that. Not at all.

Merlin’s face was red the entire night, and Arthur was surprised no one else noticed. Something Arthur noticed, however grudgingly, was that Kay was right. Merlin was limping—it was barely noticeable (which made Arthur question just how closely Kay was watching Merlin)—and he looked as exhausted as Arthur would be after a tournament. What exactly did his “errand” consist of?

It was apparently a rather bad injury because as Merlin was serving Arthur and Kay the last course, he tripped and was headed head first into the table, but Kay managed to get up and grab Merlin’s waist just in time.

“Are you all right?”

“Ah, yes. Thank you my Lord. I would’ve made a complete fool of myself.”

“Well, you’re doing a fine job at that already. But I find it rather appealing.”

Arthur sees Merlin blush and Arthur stands up all the way from his crouched position and tries to not stomp his way over to them.

“Merlin. I’m ready for bed,” Arthur says.

Merlin whips his head around to Arthur, obviously not expecting him to catch them in the act.

“Arth—Sire, you’ve not had your dessert. It’s your favorite,” Merlin says with his eyebrows scrunched together in that ~~adorable~~ confused way.

“I’m practically king, Merlin. I can do what I like.”

A familiar smirk spreads on Merlin’s face, but it fades soon after. Arthur follows Merlin’s line of sight—Kay’s fingers are still on Merlin’s waist, and they’re tightening. So he pulls Merlin by the elbow and pushes him a step in front of him to get a move on. Because that was definitely mature and the only way to get Kay to stop touching Merlin, of course. Not because he wanted to punch Kay for touching Merlin longer than necessary. No.

Kay raises his brow at Arthur, but Arthur ignores it as he asks him, “So, hunting tomorrow? I’ve heard game is sparse in your new lands.”

Kay chuckles but his eyebrow stays arched as he flicks his sight to Merlin, then back to Arthur.

“Of course. We’ll meet at first light. Is that all right, your highness?”

“Quite. Good night, Kay.”

He’s gone before he can hear Kay respond, Merlin trailing not that far behind him. But that could be because Arthur’s grabbed Merlin’s hand and doesn’t intend to let go.

Until they reach his chambers, of course.

***

“Well. That was—interesting,” Merlin says while preparing Arthur’s bed.

“What news of Morgana?” Arthur says, completely ignoring him. He’s still in shock over what happened that dinner—that Merlin was capable of earning attention from anyone. Especially the attention of a Lord.

Merlin stills as he pulls back the sheets on Arthur’s bed.

“She’s been taken care of. For now.”

Arthur’s fluttering from looking at Merlin ~~’s ass, neck, back, _everything_~~ turns into a fury he’s used to by now. The fury of not getting the full story, even after everything they’ve been through together. His skin prickles with it.

“Merlin, it’s been three years. You know you can tell me of your magic and what tasks you’ve done. In fact, I expect it. Tell me what happened.”

“Arthur—”

“Shut up, Merlin. I want to know now. The messenger is obviously someone very close to me or else I would’ve known by now.”

Merlin sighs as he motions for Arthur to sit down.

“Arthur, you have a guest here. I did what I needed to do to make sure Morgana wouldn’t ruin Lord Kay’s visit. After he leaves, I—I’ll tell you. Just, for now, please enjoy your time.”

Arthur runs a hand through his hair, frustrated beyond belief. Morgana has been “taken care of” because Arthur has a guest. Why is he trying to prolong the betrayal?

“It’s Gwen, isn’t it?”

Merlin’s eyes widen in shock, then in the blink of an eye, they close to form half-moons as he laughs, long and hard. ~~Just how Arthur likes it.~~

“How could you possibly think _Gwen_ of all people would betray you?”

Arthur shifts uncomfortably. He knows and Merlin knows that Gwen chose Lance over him. Arthur knows it isn’t a betrayal because he knows they both love each other like anything. Arthur barely feels anything from when Gwen and Lance talked with him about it, but he can’t help but be terrified at the notion that someone in his court is betraying him. What if it was Gaius? What if it was one of his knights?

Merlin misinterprets his fidgeting for feelings for Gwen, because his eyes are colored with worry and something else he can’t quite place as he leans forward and carefully places a hand on Arthur’s forearm.

They’ve touched before, obviously, because Merlin is Arthur’s servant, but these touches, these friendly, _intimate_ touches are rare. They don’t happen. When they do, it feels like the first sip of a hot drink on a cold winter morning—the feeling flushes through his body and makes him thankful that there is someone in the world to make him feel so welcome and warm.

“Arthur…”

He sighs. “Merlin, Gwen isn’t what’s bothering me. I know that you wouldn’t hold back information like this lightly, so I know that whoever is betraying me is going to hurt me. That’s what I’m afraid of. I’ve given up all feelings I’ve had of Gwen. I’m happy for her and Lancelot. They deserve each other.”

“But?” Merlin prods.

“I’ve done all of this—I’ve tried to make Camelot a better place, a fair and just place, for everyone. And all the people I’ve ever cared about…they’ve betrayed me. How…what’s wrong with me that people don’t wish to stay beside me?”

He hears Merlin scoff and looks up at him when he feels his hand pull away from his arm.

“You’re joking, right? Arthur, the whole kingdom loves you as their king! They all love you, and your knights have your back so completely! There are so many people trying to make you into the king you can be. I don’t know how you don’t see it.”

“But…”

“And you have me,” Merlin says. It’s so soft that Arthur barely hears it over the wood giving up its fight against the fire. It cracks loud and hard, Arthur thinks. Into a million pieces.

“And Gaius, obviously. He’s been serving your family since you were in diapers.”

Arthur stares up at Merlin, who’s now keeping occupied by organizing his closet, something he’s done never, and Arthur tries to hold back a smile. It’s not often Merlin gets uncomfortable with a situation. Normally, he’s the one who instigates it so Arthur’s the one spluttering and turning into a tomato.

“Right,” he says as he gathers his bed clothes. His hands are about to fly to the bottom of his shirt when he feels a presence behind him. Warm fingers trail his back like a feather as his shirt flies over his head. And when his soft night shirt finds its way past his cheek and onto his shoulders, Arthur feels a careful, warm exhale on his neck. After the shirt’s been straightened out, the fingers stay on his lower back, tracing small, meaningless patterns and Arthur can’t tell if it’s a figment of his imagination.

He clears his throat as he takes a step towards his table and water jug for no particular reason.

“That’ll be all, Merlin. Thank you.”

The next thing he hears is his door closing and he lets out his own exhale and brings his left hand to his right shoulder. He has no idea how Merlin knows when it’s in too much pain to be dressing and undressing, but he’s grateful for it. He fills his glass with water and makes his way towards his bed. Then he fishes out the key from his pillow, unlocks the drawer with his papers and letters, lights a candle and gets to work.

It should’ve been done already, Arthur thinks. Three years is too long.

**~~TWO**

Merlin’s up and at ‘em before Arthur is for once. When Arthur opens his eyes, the curtains are open, clothes and hunting supplies laid out on his dining table with breakfast, but Merlin isn’t in. Arthur sighs as he gets up and starts getting dressed. He’s almost done with his breakfast when Merlin walks in, small bottle in hand and pack on his back and unusually wide smile on his face for so early in the morning.

“Arthur!”

“Merlin. Why have you got that stupid smile on your face?”

Merlin rolls his eyes as he puts down the bottle on the table and puts the pack in the chair, but his smile doesn’t fall.

“Really, Arthur is it so unusual to see me smile?”

“When it’s this early in the morning, yes.”

Merlin chuckles. “I’ve just had a chat with Kay,” Merlin says as he starts to fiddle with his bottle. Arthur notices how “Lord” isn’t used and scowls at the familiarity. “And apparently he’s come to dislike hunting as well. We’ve made a pact to be bird watching instead.”

“And Kay is actually bright enough to recognize a lot of Camelot’s birds?” Arthur watches Merlin’s ~~long and delicate~~ fingers flip the bottle upside down and sees goo drop into his right palm. It’s a salve, Arthur realizes. “What the hell is that for?”

Merlin gives him a look that somehow conveys _You’re being a prat, and the purpose of the salve should be obvious, oh great king._ And with that, Merlin shoves, with great force, Arthur’s shirt off of his right shoulder and smears the cold goo in a very-not-so-gentle manner.

“We’ve decided to make up names for them. One I came up with is called the _Arthurius Pratticus._ It’s a beautiful bird, but it’s kind of an ass. Takes away food from babies and such.”

Arthur’s stopped struggling against Merlin’s rather forceful ministrations for two reasons. One, Merlin’s touch. It’s gone slower and more methodical on his shoulder, focusing on the areas exactly where it hurts. And it’s not just the touch of a servant to a King, or even a physician to patient touch. It’s more of a _I love you but you’re being a prat but you’re in pain so let me take this out on your shoulder because it’ll make it feel better_ kind of touch. At least, that’s what Arthur believes it to be. It’s probably so far from the truth.

Second, Merlin just inadvertently called him beautiful. He’s listening to Merlin prattle on about more bird names and Kay, but he’s concentrating more on whether or not to hold how Merlin called him beautiful over his head. But he’s saved the trouble by none other than…

“Lord Kay! We were just making our way over. I was tending to Arthur’s shoulder. He injured it in battle and gives him pain some nights,” Merlin says _way_ too enthusiastically.

Kay only chuckles. “Merlin, what did we talk about earlier? I told you to call me Kay. Titles have no significance when I’m with you.”

Merlin flushes so fast that Arthur’s surprised he doesn’t topple over.

“Ah, Kay. Good morning. I trust you had a nice rest?”

“The beds of Camelot are quite something,” Kay says with a leer at Merlin. He flushes again and Arthur tries hard not to vomit as he knocks Merlin on the head with his hunting gear, pushing past Kay and yelling at Merlin to hurry up.

It’s going to be a long day.

***

If Arthur hears Merlin or Kay giggle one more time, he’s going to shoot one of them in the skull. It’s been over two hours in the forest and Arthur hasn’t seen one, _not one_ , animal. And he thinks it may have something to do with Merlin or Kay laughing hysterically and maybe too loud at the frankly ridiculous names they come up with. _Orangitis Birdle?_

“Oh look! There’s another _Kaytus Lordorium_!” Merlin yells just as Arthur finds tracks of a deer. He’s sure it’s long gone by now.

“You know I haven’t seen any merlins around here. Maybe you’re just one of a kind,” Kay says.

“Oh…well um. In Ealdor there were flocks of them! It’s how my mother picked my name, actually.”

“And your father?”

Arthur freezes mid-step, causing Leon and Gwaine to run into his back.

“Sire?” Leon says.

“Shh. He’s trying to eavesdrop. You know, princess, you could be a little less obvious,” Gwaine says.

“Shut up!” he whispers. Sure, he might’ve stopped because he wanted to hear about Merlin’s father—who Merlin _still_ hasn’t told him about. But now, he can hear twigs snapping and hooves beating rhythmically against the ground, coming their way. They’re stifled though, so he doesn’t exactly know which direction the sound is coming from.

Leon and Gwaine probably hear it as well because they crouch down behind bushes, motioning for Kay and Merlin to follow them down. But of course, they don’t see him because they’re still in conversation.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Merlin. I know how you must feel. I lost my mother when I was 17, and there are days where I still long for her council.”

“I’m sure your father is helpful with most of what you need.”

“Not in the matters of the heart, no. He doesn’t understand my…preferences.”

Merlin’s blush and mouth opening is the last thing he sees before he’s pushed out of the way by Leon.

“Kay! Merlin! Look out!” Leon shouts. The bandits come from right behind them, and as Arthur watches Leon and Gwaine jump up and start fighting, he follows them with a flush of embarrassment on his face.

The fight isn’t as quick as it usually is. The bandits are actually a little skilled and stubborn, which usually isn’t a good combination. Arthur would know because he’s actually really skilled and is more than a little stubborn. Leon and Gwaine are holding their own, which is no surprise to Arthur, but Kay is also doing well. He’s on his second man now and doesn’t look run down.

When they were younger, Kay was a bit scrawnier than Arthur was and didn’t have as much training as him, so Kay was always the first one out and defeated, out of breath by the end of the short match. Arthur’s mildly impressed. now.

He’s fighting with his man, peeking over at Kay every so often that he doesn’t realize there’s a man behind him. And what used to be a stroke of luck or chance Arthur now knows is Merlin, who does some inconspicuous magic to help Arthur out. The thick branch falls on top of the bandit’s head, knocking him unconscious. So by the time Arthur has killed the man at his front, the one on his back is taken care of. Arthur turns around and looks for Merlin, who’s staring at him. And for one second, the worry fades from Merlin’s eyes and a spark of mirth shoots across them, and everything’s good again. Normal.

“Merlin, watch out!” Kay yells.

And then, of course, it isn’t.

Merlin turns around, and instead of getting stabbed in the back, he gets slashed across his left bicep mid-turn. Kay gets to Merlin before Arthur does and kills the man in three hard blows. Kay turns around to the last two men standing, giving them a look before they run away, hopefully never to be seen again. Then he turns back to Merlin, throwing his sword down on the ground and hands trying and failing to contain the bleeding.

“Merlin, are you okay? I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner. This looks terrible. Can you hold this for a moment? Let me try to—no, no wait. Maybe this?”

While Kay continues his blundering over Merlin’s injury, Arthur watches Merlin face change from one of neutral indifference to one of slight fondness.

“Kay, I appreciate your help, but you have no idea what you’re doing,” Merlin says. He smiles at him when Kay looks up, and it’s one of those smiles that is so soft and sweet that Kay (or anyone for that matter) can’t help but blush and look away.

Obviously, the fluttering comes back but shoots up to Arthur’s face as he makes his way towards Merlin.

“Merlin, you idiot. Can’t you watch where you’re going? One more step to the right and you’d have been dead.”

Merlin snorts. “Thank you for your concern, sire. I’m fantastic, by the way. Not hurt or anything.”

“Shut up, Merlin. You’ve had worse.”

“And who’s fault is that exactly?”

Arthur opens his mouth to respond, but Kay interrupts.

“Arthur! Can you not see that Merlin’s injured? Do you have to be so…so…”

“Lord Kay, it’s fine, really. We go at it like this every single day,” Merlin says.

“But you’re hurt!” Kay says as he grabs Merlin’s arm, pulling him towards his horse. “We need to get you back to Camelot so Gaius can tend to your—”

“Merlin is perfectly fine to take care of himself, Kay. He’s had Gaius’s training,” Arthur says, pulling on Merlin’s other arm.

“Arthur, don’t be ridiculous. This might need sewing up; it’s pretty deep.” Another tug towards his horse.

“Kay, let Merlin make his own decision,” Arthur says with another tug.

“Arthur.” Tug.

“Kay.” Tug.

“Arthur.” Tug.

“Ow!”

They both look down at Merlin’s arm and Arthur lets go of Merlin’s injured arm like he touched a hot stove.

“Merlin! Are you all right?” Kay says. His hand is still on Merlin’s arm.

“Merlin, I’m—”

“It’s fine, Arthur. I better get back before I rip it open even more, eh?” Merlin offers a small smile to him, but the pain in his face is the only thing Arthur can see. He steps back towards Leon and Gwaine.

“Of course. We’ll be back soon.”

“Merlin, are you sure you’re—” Kay’s voice drones away the closer they get to his horse and Arthur can’t help but stare after them. Merlin turns around, suddenly, and catches Arthur’s eye. He gives him a small smile, but his eyes are strange, asking a silent question Arthur doesn’t get. So he sighs. How is it when he wants to protect Merlin, he ends up hurting him?

He shakes his head and turns back to Leon and Gwaine, who are looking at him part amused and part exasperated.

“Let’s go. I’m not leaving here until we get at least a rabbit to bring back.”

***

Arthur’s thinking about the meeting he just had, so when he comes into his room, he expects it to be empty and lit, everything ready for bed so he can plop into it and contemplate about the topics he just discussed. It’s late—past time anyone else should be awake.

So if he jumps up a foot and the air and squeaks like a girl, no one has to know. It’s all Merlin’s fault anyway.

“I see you weren’t expecting me,” he says.

“Merlin, it’s late. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. It’s late. What the hell were you doing?”

“I’m the King of Camelot, Merlin. I don’t have to answer to the likes of you.”

Merlin snorts and stands up, which is when Arthur realizes that his arm is in a sling.

“Is it really that bad?”

Arthur nods down to Merlin’s arm and Merlin shakes his head fondly and chuckles.

“Kay was making a big deal about it, so of course Gaius made a big deal about it. It should be healed by tomorrow afternoon. And don’t worry, I’ll get my chores done before then.”

“The chores don’t worry me, Merlin. Are you sure you’re all right?”

His eyes widen a bit and brows furrow again. “Arthur…are you sure _you’re_ all right? You’ve been acting…different lately. Since Kay’s come. Is there something wrong?”

Arthur blinks more times than he would’ve liked as the silence grows longer and splutters as he makes his way behind the screen to change.

“I—There’s absolutely nothing wrong with me, Merlin. You just worry about yourself.”

“Arthur—”

“Just leave it, Merlin. I’m fine. I’m always fine.”

“Oh really? So, your hearing is all right? Head not bothering you? Eyes can still see?”

Arthur peeks his head around the screen to see Merlin trying, and failing, to look like an admonishing parent.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“The bandits, Arthur! Have you lost your hearing?! You’re always the one who gets an upper hand on them! They never manage to sneak up on you because you hear them before they attack. What’s going on?”

Arthur blinks again and hates his eyes for doing so. “Well, I would think being deaf isn’t that much of a shock to you. After all, you barely listen to whatever I ha—”

“You could’ve been _killed_ today, you dollophead!” Arthur steps out from behind the screen, face impassive as it watches Merlin’s. It’s turned red from yelling so loud, eyes glistening with a sheen of tears, right hand closed into a tight fist. And his eyes. His eyes are molten and blazing, highlighted by black wisps of hair across his face from the strange wind that began to form.

“Merlin,” Arthur says softly. Merlin sighs and falls into the chair, light breeze gone and hair flat. There’s one strand on the tip of his pale nose. Arthur wants to stroke it behind his ear.

“If…if it wasn’t for Leon you could’ve died,” Merlin says. “Did you really not hear them come?”

Arthur looks down to hide the blush that forms on his face, then turns around to finish his dressing. He puts on his shirt and walks back out and sees Merlin standing up, facing him.

“Good night, sire.”

He bows his head and turns to go, and Arthur’s heart starts fluttering. So of course, his brain doesn’t work and his mouth acts of its own accord.

“What happened to your father?”

Merlin stops mid-movement of opening the door, and his shoulders stiffen.

“What?” he says quietly.

“Your father. I—I was listening to your conversation with Kay. About your father. Only, Leon and Gwaine were talking over you when yo—”

Merlin turns and walks suddenly very close to Arthur. He can smell Merlin’s earthy scent and can feel the heat radiating off of his body. He gulps.

“You missed the bandits because you were listening to our conversation? About my father?”

Arthur shrugs and looks down at his toes. “You don’t talk about him much anymore.”

“And you really want to know about him?”

Arthur nods.

“Well,” Merlin says. “He died. About three years ago.”

Arthur shoots his head up. “What? I thought you said you never met him and you didn’t know if he was alive or dead.”

Merlin bites his lip and Arthur shudders. This could not be good. ~~Also, Arthur really much wants to bite those lips too.~~ He nods towards the chair and Arthur sits down and braces himself.

“Do you remember when we faced that dragon? Well…”

Arthur’s blood is boiling by the end of it. His jaw hurts from being clenched so hard and he can feel his stiff fingers unwilling to unfold from their fists. He wants to tell off his father for going back on his word, he wants to tell off Merlin for not telling him about Balinor in the first place, and he wants to tell off himself for being so blind and stupid and not noticing Merlin’s magic earlier. Every day that passes is one more day that Arthur realizes how blind he’s been. Merlin practically _glows_ with it, either when he’s fighting off bandits or when he’s polishing Arthur’s armor (without magic). It’s him—Merlin doesn’t have magic. Merlin _is_ magic.

“Arthur?”

“I’m fine.”

Merlin sighs. “I know you might want a couple days to process this, and I’m sorry I’ve kept it from you for so long. I just—didn’t know how to bring it up to you.”

Arthur lets out a low chuckle. “Didn’t know how to bring it up to me? How could you, Merlin? My father practically murdered yours! He forced him to exile, leaving you and Hunith by yourselves! He tore your family apart! He tore _multiple_ families apart! I can’t stand that! I don’t know you told me all of that so calmly. I…I’m—I apologize, Merlin. On behalf of my father that yours could not fulfill his life the way it should’ve been.”

He looks up at Merlin and sees a tiny smile and maybe a few tears rolling down his cheek. He brings his right hand to Arthur’s left forearm and squeezes lightly and the frustrating fluttering starts up faster than it usually does. It leaves him dizzy.

“You—you’re a great king, Arthur. You have nothing to worry about.” He opens his mouth to say something more, but shuts it after letting out a breath. His smile is breathtaking as he gets up from the chair.

“Sleep well, Arthur.”

He does not sleep well at all. The fluttering keeps him up all night.

**~~THREE**

The next two days are actually pretty amusing with Kay. Merlin’s been ordered to “rest”, so he’s been picking herbs for Gaius. It’s probably why Kay’s being tolerable, Arthur thinks as he laughs along with Kay’s joke. It’s Kay’s attention that’s always on Merlin that bothers him. Why? Arthur has no clue.

They’ve spent the last couple days reminiscing about the old days and Kay’s taken it upon himself to start a couple of mischievous activities that, predictably, gets them into trouble. Even if Arthur is the King.

“Sire, I know you are entertaining a guest, but perhaps it would be wise to not try and milk the horses. For one, they do not provide milk, and second, they are very rowdy when unhappy.”

Kay snickers into his elbow and Arthur shoots him a quick glare, but hides a smile himself.

“We’re terribly sorry, Richard. It won’t happen again,” he says to the stable manager.

“Very good, sire.”

They hobble out of the stables laughing uncontrollably on each other’s shoulders.

“How is it that _I’m_ the one who gets the lecture! You’re the perpetrator!”

“It’s because I’m a guest, Arthur. I’m surprised you didn’t catch onto that when we were younger, either.”

“But you weren’t a guest! You were practically a Lord!”

“Yes, but I wasn’t the spoiled prince causing trouble, now was I?”

Arthur chuckles and pushes at Kay’s shoulder. “Shut up.”

Kay laughs again. “Where do you go for some mead around here? I’ve been dying for a drink since I got here.”

“You’ve had wine most every night, Kay.”

“Yes, but I always love a good mead. Wine is too…proper for my tastes.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “You’re going to get me into more trouble, aren’t you?”

Kay smirks. “You have the mind of a genius, Arthur.”

They laugh as Arthur shoves Kay into a stack of hay and races him all the way to The Rising Sun.

***

“…then I ran and left Arthur behind so he could get a nice scolding from Cook.”

Leon, Gwaine, Bedivere, Owaine and Elyan burst out laughing at Kay’s story. Gwaine almost falls off of the bench.

“I—I can’t believe you just left him there! Were you cross with him after?” Elyan asks Arthur.

“Of course I was! Cook was even a pain in the ass 11 years ago! Even worse, if you ask me. It was only her second year on the job so she wanted to do as best as she could.”

“Her cooking hasn’t changed all that much if you ask me,” Kay murmured.

The table breaks out in laughs again. Arthur lifts his arm and asks for another round of drinks for everyone. It’d been a good day, Arthur thinks to himself as he watches Kay and his knights laugh and talk. He wonders why Merlin makes things so weird between Kay and him. He knows Kay fancies Merlin, and usually, Arthur wouldn’t mind that, but it’s _Merlin_ and he’s _Arthur’s_ servant who’s never had a meeting with women, or men for that matter, for intimacy. He always seemed to not be interested.

But Kay, Arthur thinks as he looks over at him, he’s the only one who’s ever shown any type of attraction towards Merlin. He always looks at him like he’s the most beautiful thing ever (which he is, but Arthur didn’t say that) and like he always says the funniest and smartest things (which he does…but only sometimes). Kay always looks like…like now! He’s looking so besotted and drunk, which they all are, Arthur thinks. And he looks…predatory.

He follows Kay’s line of sight and sees Merlin standing at the entrance to The Rising Sun with his hands on his hips, mouth curved into a small frown but eyes sparkling with amusement.

“All right. Whose fault is it this time?” he says. Suddenly, six fingers are in his face and he tumbles backwards until warm hands catch him. When he looks up, he sees Merlin’s hand stretched out the tiniest bit and catches his eyes fade to blue when he sees that Arthur’s sitting up straight. Arthur can’t help but smile. Merlin’s always looking out for him.

He furrows his brows when he sees two pink blobs pop on either of his cheeks and he immediately looks at Kay to see if he’s said or done something to Merlin to make him look so bashful. But Kay’s eyes are on Arthur.

“Right. I’m going to get Percival and Elyan to help get you guys up. Lance? Elyan? Can you help Owaine and Gwaine get up to their rooms? I’ll be back with reinforcements.”

“Aye-aye, sir Merlin!” Elyan shouts, and the table is back to laughing their heads off. Arthur watches Merlin shake his head fondly before he heads out.

“That Merlin is something special,” Kay says when the laughter dies down.

“That he is,” Lancelot says.

“He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” Kay says with that look on his face.

“He really is something. I’ve asked him a couple times to have some fun with me, but he always just laughs it off. I don’t think he knows how good looking he really is,” Gwaine says.

“It’s his cheekbones,” Elyan says. “They’re cut so sharply! Like glass!”

There’s a murmur of agreement around the table and Arthur’s nails progressively curve deeper into his palm as they go on about Merlin and his “beauty”.

“I…I might ask him to spend the day with me tomorrow. I’ve only three days left in Camelot, and I would love for him to show me sights,” Kay says.

The table goes quiet as Arthur shoots up.

“There are many capable tour guides here in Camelot, Kay. I can have one arranged for you tomorrow.”

“That’s quite all right, Arthur. I would prefer Merlin, anyway. Maybe we can…explore some other sights.”

Arthur sees red. He storms up to Kay and pushes him against the pillar behind him.

“Do _not_ talk about Merlin that way. He is _my_ servant and he has duties to perform tomorrow. He can’t go dawdling about with you.”

“Well, you can give him a day off. He’s still recovering from—”

“No! Merlin cannot have a day off. I don’t even know what you lot see in him. He’s as ugly as he is stupid! No wit whatsoever and can’t even follow simple orders from me! He’s been thrown in the stocks multiple times because of his “smarts” and has never had a single suitor since he’s been here. What makes you think—”

He stops ranting when he hears loud gasps and coughs from behind him. He turns around and finds Merlin, Percival and Lancelot standing in front of the table staring at Arthur and Kay. Arthur blushes red and steps back from Kay to step towards Merlin.

“Merlin—”

“Percival, could you take the King up to his room, please? Lancelot, take Leon. I’ll deal with Kay,” he says in a clipped voice. They both nod silently as they and the rest of the knights grab a partner and make their way out of the tavern. Arthur watches Merlin make his way over to Kay and grab his left arm to swing around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that, Merlin,” Kay whispers into Merlin’s neck. “You really are beautiful. I don’t know what he’s thinking.”

“Don’t worry about it, Kay,” Merlin whispers back. Arthur watches as Kay wraps his other hand around Merlin’s waist and nuzzles his nose into his neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” Kay whispers. And with that, they’re out of the pub and Arthur’s left standing there with Percy behind him and heart falling slowly and painfully to his feet.

“He’s…he’s mine, Percival. Isn’t he?” He hears Percival sigh behind him and soon, he feels like a feather caught in a windstorm. He wraps his arms around Percival’s neck and leans his head against his chest.

“He was always mine. Wasn’t he?”

“Yes, sire,” he says.

Of course he was.  

***

He’s just downed a glass of water and climbed into bed when his door opens to reveal a black tuft of hair.

“Merlin?”

“Just came to check if you’re all right, sire.”

“Come here.”

“I really should be getting back to—”

“ _Mer_ lin, come here.”

He hears him sigh and close the door as he makes his way over.

“Yes, sire?”

Arthur sits up in his bed and looks at Merlin and goes a little dizzy at what he sees. His shirt is in disarray—probably from carrying Kay all the way up to his room—and his hair is windswept, like he’s run his fingers through his hair right outside his door because he wasn’t sure if he wanted to check on Arthur or not. But of course he did. Because…because of something.

His eyes look tired and hurt, but they glisten blue and flicker with gold from the candle by his bed. His mouth is unmoving but red, and Arthur can imagine him pulling his bottom lip inside his mouth, dragging his teeth across it as he always does when he’s nervous. His hands are at his side, long, delicate fingers twitching, as if to hold back from something.

And then…and _then_. There’s that glow. That constant glow of magic that he is. All the power he holds, all the power he carries, it’s just there. Between them as something like air. So natural and invisible but so _there._ He needs it, Arthur realizes.

He’s so beautiful.

“You’re beautiful, Merlin.”

He watches his eyes grow wide and black pupils fill the hole where blue used to live, and he steps back, sort of breathless.

“You’re drunk, Arthur.”

Well, yes. Yes, he is. But he doesn’t need to be drunk to know what he feels. And what he feels is the fluttering. The constant fluttering that pops out from nowhere when Merlin’s not around, or the intense fluttering when he walks into a room, or the fluttering he gets when Merlin looks at him, kind of like he is now. With disbelief, awe and admiration. The way he’s always looked at Arthur.

So Arthur tries to tell him.

“There’s the fluttering. Always the fluttering when you’re around me. And now, too. It’s so big and my insides are blowing up and feel so good but they hurt because I said that to you. I didn’t mean it, Merlin.”

“Oh God, you’re going to be sick, aren’t you?”

Arthur barely processes that sentence before he’s out of bed and being pulled out of his room and down the hall.

“Just wait till we get to the courtyard, Arthur. You can be as sick as you want, then.”

But he’s not going to be sick. So he stops Merlin by pushing him up against the wall by his shoulders.

“Shut up, Merlin and listen to me,” he says. His gaze, though, is on Merlin’s neck. It’s long and exposed just above his neckerchief and he can see his pulse fire away. It matches his own.

He takes Merlin’s right hand from his side and slowly raises it to his chest. He presses it in so Merlin can feel that they match. They’re the same.

He looks up and sees his eyes wide open again and mouth slightly open, and he can feel the warm puffs against his nose. It hurts him; to be this close but feel like he’s not getting anywhere. Like he’s stuck in quicksand an inch from where he was supposed to be.

He looks down at Merlin’s fingers on his chest and lightly traces them with his own.

“You don’t even know what you do to me, M.”

Merlin’s left hand comes up slowly and trails the side of Arthur’s face, slowly and carefully, like he’s taming a wild horse. He finds Arthur’s chin and lifts it up so Arthur can meet Merlin’s eyes.

They’re blue and black and soft with something Arthur thinks he could make out if he had a second.

“Actually, I think I may have some idea,” he says softly.

And suddenly, Arthur knows what it is. So he leans in.

Then drops his head on Merlin’s shoulder.

It’s exhaustion; that’s what it was. He hears Merlin sigh and chuckle, so he nuzzles against Merlin’s neck to make him shut up.

The last thing he hears is Merlin’s voice, full of affection and exasperation.

“You’re such a dollophead.”

But he smiles anyway; there are arms wrapped around him that feel like they’ve been there since the beginning.

 

**~~FOUR**

Arthur wakes up with a frown on his face because Merlin is up and going on and on about something that he can’t fully comprehend. But it seems to be rather serious.

“Merlin, what have I told you about waking me up before you tell me important things?”

“That you should be out of the bed when I tell you them?”

“And where am I, right now?”

“On your table.”

Arthur shoots up and feels the soreness of his back and looks down. Yes, he thinks. Yes, I am here. Why? He sorts through his papers rather quickly to make sure his plans aren’t up there, but he’s relieved to find it’s just a bunch of squiggles and badly shaped hearts and a name that starts with an M on a lot of different papers. His brows furrow.

“Why do you look like you don’t know how you got there? I remember putting you in bed after you almost got sick in the hallway, and you were sound asleep, then.”

Arthur looks warily up at Merlin. Does he not remember what happened in that hallway?

“Right,” Arthur says around a tight throat. “What were you going on about earlier?”

“The council called a meeting at the round table for something rather urgent. I wasn’t told what about, just that you were required as soon as you got up.”

“Right, then. What are you waiting for?”

“For you to get up.” Arthur looks up again and finds a really small smile on Merlin’s lips, and Arthur can’t help but smile back. He clears his throat and gets up as soon as there’s a knock on the door, though.

“Enter.”

“Leon, Kay. What can I do for you?”

“Sire, the bandits that we fought off four days ago are back in the kingdom and they’re attacking the outlying regions with a small army. The council has been called to address the concern and take action,” Leon says.

“I’ll be down shortly. Thank you, Leon.”

Leon bows and heads out, but Kay is still there.

“Kay, how may I help you?”

“Ah, actually, I needed to speak with Merlin.”

Merlin stops fussing and stands stock still from where he’s finding Arthur’s clothes in his closet.

“Ah, there’s no need for that, Kay. It’s all forgiven.”

Kay looks pained, though. “Merlin, please. Just let me apologize.”

“You have already, and I’ve forgiven it. There’s no need to bring it up again.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have kiss—”

“Kay!” Both Arthur and Kay start at the loudness of his voice.

“I said it’s over and done with. Forget it ever happened. Now please excuse me while I dress King Arthur for his round table meeting.”

Kay pales, but there’s something in his eyes that has Arthur’s fists clench tighter at his side. Something like satisfaction.

“Of course. I’ll see you in the meeting, Arthur. Merlin.”

The echo of the door closing is the only sound that’s heard for a while. After Merlin’s put on Arthur’s belt, his hands stay there, fingers wrapped around it.

“Arthur, nothing happened. He just—it was jus—he kissed me. He didn’t know—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Merlin. What you get into during your spare time is beyond me. I don’t care.”

He walks away and feels the cold spots left by Merlin’s fingers on his waist. There’s a cold coming from inside his room too, but he leaves before he can look back and see if it’s Merlin’s magic or his heart falling apart.

***

By the end of the meeting, the plan to attack the bandits is set and Arthur’s sent a small army of his own, made up of mostly newer knights along with Percival and Lancelot to handle the situation. It’s time they proved themselves. As everyone is preparing to leave the meeting, he hears Gwaine’s laugh at something Kay says.

“Merlin’s done more in the fight against Morgana than I have, and I’m a knight! Don’t let him fool you with him standing behind Arthur.”

“I don’t believe it. He’s just a servant!”

Gwaine, Elyan and Leon all turn to Kay with a hard look.

“Merlin may be a servant, but that’s not all he is. He’s a smart lad, trained by Gaius to be a physician and he’s the most loyal man I’ve ever known,” Leon says.

Kay looks at Arthur, then, and suddenly he’s uncomfortable and feels a sense of foreboding.

“If that’s so, why doesn’t he have a seat at the table?”

The room goes quiet. All Arthur can hear Kay’s voice, replaying in his head as he sees him walk behind him and grab Merlin’s arm to sit in his spot. All he can see is all the times Merlin’s sacrificed his life for Arthur’s—all the magical ways and non-magical ways. His thoughts are occupied with every piece of wisdom that he’s fed Arthur throughout the years, how his wisdom was taken into account in _every single_ decision that was made. And all Arthur can feel is shame as Merlin sits in Kay’s chair, awe-struck and embarrassed at something he so clearly deserves.

He walks out of the room and slams the door.

***

When Arthur comes back from his meeting late that night, he half expects to see Merlin waiting up for him again. What he does see is his bed turned down, bed clothes laid out and still warm food on his table.

It all ends up on the floor, and by the time Arthur is in his bed, his voice is sore from screaming so loud.

The fluttering moved behind his eyes. He blames that for the tears that stream down his face.

**~~FIVE**

Arthur barely gets any sleep that night as he forms a plan in his head and moves ahead with the ones on paper. As soon as dawn comes, he storms his way to Kay’s room. He smirks when Kay shoots up, something like fear on his face, and throws down a gauntlet on his bed.

Kay raises his brow. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Today at noon. Till first draw of blood.”

“I’ll be there, sire.”

“Good.”

***

George just finishes with Arthur armor when Merlin walks into the armory.

“That’ll be all, George.”

He bows and walks out. Arthur turns his back towards Merlin, deciding on a sword.

“Do you even know what you’re fighting for, Arthur?”

“That doesn’t matter, Merlin.”

“Of course it matters! I don’t want you to get hurt for something stupid! Kay was just being nice, and I know I don’t need a spot at the table. I’m serving you, Arthur, and that’s—”

“You don’t get it, Merlin!” Arthur spins around to face him. “You _do_ deserve a spot at the table! You belong there, by my side, as you have been for the past seven years. You deserve more than that. You deserve to be free from hiding, free for whatever it is you want to do. And I didn’t realize that till yesterday.”

“Arthur—”

“No, Merlin. Today, I’m not listening to you. I’m listening to myself.”

He walks out, head held high and hope in his chest. He doesn’t even know what it is he’s fighting for, but he does know it’s all for Merlin.

***

“First one who draws blood is declared the winner,” Gwaine says. “I…don’t think there is a prize, but, anyway. Your time starts…now!”

Arthur strikes first, too full of adrenaline to wait for his opponent to make a move. From there, it’s a back and forth strike and parry.

“You’ve gotten stronger,” Kay says.

“Of course I have.”

“So have I, though.”

“So it seems.”

“Still dimwitted, though.”

Arthur steps back from Kay, letting him stumble with the extra force behind the blow he meant for Arthur.

“What do you mean ‘dimwitted’?”

Kay chuckles as he regains his footing. He motions for Arthur to strike, so he does, but Kay blocks it again.

“You don’t even know why you threw that gauntlet down, do you?”

Arthur’s so taken aback by the truth of that statement, that he doesn’t see Kay’s foot coming for his stomach. He stumbles back with a cough, sword outstretched to block another one of Kay’s strikes.

“Would you like me to tell you why you did?”

Arthur doesn’t like the smug tone Kay’s adopted, so he parries back hard and uses the end of his sword to push at Kay’s chest. He falls back on the ground, hand on his chest, eyes wide but mouth curved up in an unsettling smile.

“You’re in love with Merlin. And you’re jealous that I was courting him.”

Arthur snarls and tries to attack Kay on the floor, but he jumps up and strikes back at Arthur.

“You’re a fool, Arthur Pendragon. You can’t even see what’s right in front of you. You’ve distanced yourself so far from it that you can’t see he loves you back. And how much he’s hurt by it.”

Arthur hits back with all of his force. He doesn’t want to listen to this. He’s given himself enough grief about it since the first day of his visit.

“And you’re blind if you can’t see he likes you, Kay.”

Kay stops mid parry and laughs. He throws his head back and _laughs_ in the middle of their match.

“He does not like me, Arthur. He respects me because I respect him and treat him the way he deserves to be treated. Something you could learn from me.”

Kay strikes Arthur’s armor, but Arthur quickly strikes back with all the force he could muster. Kay falls back, and Arthur takes the opportunity to lightly graze his cheek with his sword.

He wins.

“He’s a servant, Kay. I treat him well. Better than I should, actually,” Arthur lies while standing above Kay.

He gives Kay a hand to help him, and when he does, Kay pulls him close, nose almost touching nose and says,

“You’re a fool, Arthur. I know you don’t believe that. Merlin is more counsel than most nobles have in their lifetime. And I think you know that.”

Arthur swallows down the lie sprouting up and pulls away.

“If you won’t cherish someone like that, if you won’t even acknowledge him for all that he’s done for you, you’re not worth him. He’s worth twice as much as you are, _King_ Arthur. And I can show him that if he comes back with me.”

Arthur punches him in the nose and watches Merlin run towards them, worry etched on his face but eyes only looking at Kay. He closes his eyes and lets his legs carry him towards his room.

***

“I know what Kay said to you,” Merlin says as he enters the room without knocking. Again.

Arthur flinches and rushes to hide his papers underneath books.

“He asked me to come back with him, but I—”

“So you’re going then? You’ll be happy there. No more prattish kings to tell you what to do. It’s not like you listen, anyway.”

“Arthur—”

“You can practice your magic freely there, as well. It’s not outlawed. The game is sparse there as well, or so I’ve heard, so you won’t have to worry about hunting.”

“ _Ar_ thur.”

“It’s fine, Merlin. I understand. I just want you to be happy.”

“Shut up, Arthur!”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not leaving you.”

He looks up from his papers and sees Merlin standing quite close to his desk. “What?”

“I punched Kay as well. He’s with Gaius right now. I think I broke his nose.”

Arthur just stares. “Why did you punch him? It’s not like he forced you to come with him, right?”

Merlin rolls his eyes. “I heard everything he said to you. He shouldn’t have talked to you like that. You are the king. I know you don’t treat me well, but I do know that you care for me, Arthur. You’re emotionally stunted, but I understand that whatever you do, you do because you do care. Not just because you want to make my life a living hell.

Everything I’ve done for you, everything I will do, I do _for you_. Not for acknowledgement, not to be appreciated. It’s because I believe that whatever I do for you, you will not take it for granted. You will prove to me that you are the Once and Future King. You will make this kingdom the greatest in all of Albion. _That_ is more respect and more than any servant should deserve.”

Arthur lets out a shaky sigh. The fluttering is back, and it’s a full force kind of attack. It’s all over his face, in his body and in his eyes, though he’s fighting to hold back the tears in his eyes.

“How do you see such greatness in me, Merlin? How can you trust me like that with the way I’ve treated you? I can’t forgive myself.”

“Arthur, you—”

“But you’re not, Merlin. You’re not just a servant. You’re a bloody sorcerer who can’t be himself because of the rules I’m enforcing, but you still use your magic for me. I make you do things you hate, things you shouldn’t do because of how much power you have and…how much you’ve _done_ for me…and I…,”. Arthur shakes his head softly. “You should have a place at the Table with us. I’m still more than ashamed about that.”

Merlin walks around the table and lifts up Arthur’s chin. His gaze is the same one that pierces him now—the black and blue of his eyes taking up all the space Arthur has to see. It’s all he can see. All he can see is Merlin.

“Arthur, I’m happy to be your servant. Till the day I die.”

“Merlin…,” he whispers.

Merlin leans in slightly and Arthur can feel the warm breath on his lips. “I’m right here, Arthur. Always have been.”

Arthur closes his eyes and the space between them and slots his lips over Merlin’s. He doesn’t kiss back, so Arthur starts to pull away when Merlin snaps to attention and falls into Arthur’s lap. His lips are moving vigorously, chasing after every breath Arthur gives, every chance that’s laid out in front of him like he does everything—clumsily and enthusiastically. Arthur opens his mouth for another kiss and groans when he feels Merlin’s hot tongue glide inside his mouth, wrapping around his own tongue. Merlin lets out a sigh as Arthur moves his hand from Merlin’s hair to his back and down to his ass, grabbing and kneading. Merlin wiggles to get closer to Arthur and that’s when Arthur feels Merlin’s hardness against his own. He pulls apart from Merlin’s mouth and groans when it makes a loud, explicit sound and when he sees Merlin’s mouth, red and plush from the kisses they’ve exchanged.

“Arthur, do you—”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

“But—”

The fluttering kicks up when he realizes Merlin’s nervous Arthur won’t want this—won’t want _him._

“Merlin, you idiot, I…I’m—you are everything to me,” he sighs and rests his forehead against Merlin’s. Merlin brings his hand up from Arthur’s back to his neck and plays with the hair on his nape.

“You are to me, too.”

Arthur looks into Merlin’s eyes and finds blues whirling into gold, and he shivers as he hears the door lock.

“Merlin—”

“Shh,” he whispers into Arthur’s ear. “We don’t want anyone else to hear.”

He lets out a slow grin and feels Merlin’s grow on his neck.

This, Arthur thinks, this is everything.

Then the fluttering starts up again, from way down there—a place where Arthur can’t say out loud, because, of course, he’s the king.

**++PLUS ONE**

Arthur tries not to laugh as he watches Merlin make his way towards the throne with a petrified expression on his face. He was disgruntled and a little upset with Arthur that they had to get up so early after all of their adventures last night, but Arthur promised it would be good. Merlin didn’t think it’d be something like this.

“Do you, Merlin—Emrys—promise to uphold and carry out the will of the kingdom and declare fair judgment to those who show magic in this kingdom? Do promise to execute the knowledge you know about sorcery to this kingdom in hopes that sorcerers and the people of Camelot can live in peace?”

Merlin looks at Arthur and holds his eyes, blue eyes filling quickly with pools of tears. Arthur can tell he’s trying not to cry.

“I solemnly swear so to do.”

“I crown thee,” Geoffrey says warily. “Court Sorcerer of Camelot.”

It took three years of meetings with Gaius, letters from the druids, plans and meetings in the woods and with the court to finally come up with a plan that they all approved of to help reintroduce magic into the kingdom. He wanted it to be a surprise for Merlin and invited Kay here for the sole purpose of watching the ceremony.

He knew Kay’s mother had magic—he wasn’t sure if Uther somehow killed her, but her death was very mysterious. He looks to him now and bristles a little at how blatantly he’s staring at Merlin, proud and a little in awe of who, exactly, Merlin is. But as Arthur turns his neck to look back at Merlin, he’s reminded of the bruise on his neck and smiles slightly as he remembers the way Merlin claimed Arthur as _his_ and no one else’s.

After the ceremony, there’s a feast held in Merlin’s honor. He’s walking around the room, like a true member of the court, making conversation and jokes with all the people, assuring them with jokes and a friendly smile that he’s still the same person—he’s still Merlin.

He flinches a little as he sees Kay approach Merlin, leaning in a little too close to be whispering something in his ear. Arthur looks at Merlin, though, listening to his laugh at something Kay tells him and smiles at the familiar fluttering in his heart. This is how he’s supposed to be, Arthur thinks. Carefree and magical and _free_ from all constraints to just be himself. He’s glowing now, and everyone can see it.

The fluttering intensifies as he watches Merlin make his way over to him in his robes, and Arthur reminds himself to check himself—to not let it show.

But as Merlin’s hand comes to grip his own, the fluttering comes back and Arthur knows that this time, it’s here to stay.

It was always meant to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> *Disclaimer: There is NOTHING wrong with men giggling! I love it, actually! That’s just Arthur being a prat lolol :p
> 
> AHHH OMG I hope y’all liked this, especially you, Leio_Rossi! I hope it’s what you were looking for! As always, if I’ve written something to offend you, I’m so sorry!! It was completely unintentional, but please let me know and I will fix it as soon as I can! Wishing y’all the best 2017 :3


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